WARNING: sappiness ahead (sorry…it is necessary for subtle plot points to come…)
Things at the Potter household settle down for the most part. Autumn becomes Winter and this results, quite suddenly, in an increase in adults whispering amongst each other, gathering around the kitchen table with paper and quills, and lots of giggles from Emma, who seems, for once, able to keep a secret.
Devlin thinks he is the only one in the whole world who doesn't know what they are whispering about. Whenever he steps into a room, the topic quickly changes. He is becoming more than a little annoyed.
And then one day Ginny and Hermione and his mother are sitting around the table, silently. Smiling. Mischievous. He growls.
"We're going flying, Devlin." His father says from behind him. He swings around to find his father holding out his broom and ushering him to the fireplace.
"What if I don't want to?"
"Doesn't matter. We're being kicked out."
"Kicked out?" He asks, unbelieving.
"Mmmhmmm, your mom says it's a 'girl's day' so we gotta leave. Do you really want to listen to them talk about hair and make-up and household spells, anyways?" His mother didn't often talk about those things, but then again, she didn't often have both Hermione and Ginny over at the same time. Perhaps 'girl day's' were real things after all…
"No…" So he took his broom and let his father send him to Hogwarts via the Floo. This time they landed in Remus's office, instead of the Headmaster's.
"Devlin!" Remus said kindly, coming over to help him up. "How have you been?"
"Alright," he said slowly, still a little peeved at Remus from the week before when the man had refused to tell him what everyone was discussing in the kitchen. He had thought Remus would have been his savior.
"It's good to see you," he says softly, brushing the worst of the Floo dust off his robes for him.
"Hey, Remus. Thanks for letting us use the fire," Harry says, coming out of the floo relatively gracefully.
"Sure thing. I'll let you boys get to flying, then. I have papers to grade." Except there weren't any papers out on his desk and Remus always kept them right there. Devlin frowned, feeling that paranoia creeping up on him, building more and more.
"See ya!" And his father leads him out the door and through the castle and out to the pitch.
"Let's have a race," his father says to him, once they are out on the pitch and he's getting ready to mount his broom.
"Sure," Devlin says, swinging his leg over his broom and bracing himself against the ground.
"One, two, three!" His father manages to get himself into the air a fraction of a second sooner, but Devlin's smaller body cuts through the air in front of him as he clings low to the broom. He hugs the broom tighter and lets it spiral and for the first time that week, he laughs, filling his lungs even as he empties them.
"Show off!" His father shouts. He throws a grin back at his Dad and begins looping around him. They've both slowed down now. "We need to do this more often," he murmurs, smiling widely.
"How would we do that, when you live at work?" Devlin teases. It was much different from when he'd first arrived – he realized that his father had been afraid to leave him with Uncle Sirius or Aunt Hermione but after his accumulated vacation was up, he'd fretfully had Sirius watch him. Even with his Mum cutting hours and doing all her research-based work at home, Emma and he were with extended family more than they were home.
"…well…maybe we can figure something out…" Devlin starts doing spirals again.
In all reality, his parents are more bothered by the arrangement than him – he rather liked not being cooped up in the same building all the time. Now he would visit Hermione, then Remus, then Sirius and then Molly Weasley, before he'd start the whole thing over again. In between visits were the days his Mum did stay home, or his father managed to stay until they called him (which sometimes, they never did). Devlin was used to being left to his own devices. Sometimes he even likes it more.
But they still didn't treat him the same as Emma. Emma, he found, went to a magical preschool. Devlin didn't think they'd ever let him do that. They were too afraid of losing him. No matter what they said, they didn't trust him entirely.
"Let's see if you can catch a snitch," his father says, pulling a little golden one out of his pocket. Devlin grins devilishly at the little ball and lets it begin zooming around before he goes after it. It is too small to see it by itself, but if he looks just right, he can see the sun's reflection of its surface. He zooms up and then down when it dashes away from him. Finally, moments later, he has it in his hand. His father is cheering and clapping and whistling. Devlin is grinning.
They play 'catch the snitch' a couple more times before his father finally says it is time to go home again.
Remus is no longer in his office and there are no papers laid out neatly on his desk, but Devlin tries not to think on it too hard.
His father sends him through the floo first, as always.
He tumbles out and when he looks up from his hands and knees there are people surrounding him.
"SURPRISE!" they shout, throwing their arms into the air and grinning widely. He stumbles backwards, into his father's oncoming figure.
"Happy Birthday," his father whispers by his ear, righting them both with his sturdy hands.
"But…it's not my birthday today," he whispers softly, looking around shyly at all the new faces mixing with the familiar ones.
"Course it is, Devlin," his father whispers comfortingly. "Lost track of time, huh?"
"No…my birthday is in the Summer," Devlin whispers. "June 12th."
His father bends down and looks him in the eye.
"No, Devlin. December 7th – that's your birthday. I was there. I promise, this is Devlin's birthday."
He looks side long at his father, nervousness clear in his eyes. He'd gotten the clue, though, for he nods resolutely.
"Thanks, then," he affirms, softly.
"We have cake!" Emma shouts, racing over to them and bouncing up and down. "Come see it! Mama and I made it! And you have a pile of presents! Come see! Come see!"
Her little hand grabs onto his and her bright blue eyes, so innocent, shimmer at him happily. He knows in that moment why he had made that deal.
'I'll do anything for her'
He'd meant what he'd said, even now.
The cake is a long sheet with snitches around the outside and 'Happy Birthday Devlin' on the inside. It is dressed in white frosting.
"You decorated it?" He asks kindly, because it's clear she's helped with some of the lettering. She beams up at him, her little hands and perfect smile warming him from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hairs.
"It's chocolate!" She yells in excitement. "But we ordered something too!" And she drags him further along the table. Their mum and dad are watching them from the kitchen doorway. He can hear the crowd talking in the living room.
And now he is standing in front of a large platter of cheese pastries and he stops breathing for a moment and looks over at his father. He doesn't think his father knows their significance, but to him it is like someone saying 'doesn't it feel good to be free?'
Yet Devlin knows he isn't really free because if he were, he could do whatever he wanted. He could go back to his Grandfather. He could come see his mum and dad. He could leave them all. No, he's still a child and children are never completely free.
She drags him next back into the living room, to see the pile of presents that towers over his head, set atop a table.
It is then that he notices her, standing quietly by her mother and father, smiling softly when she notices his regard.
"I have to go talk to some people," he whispers to Emma gently, and she nods, twirling around in her pretty green dress.
"Hello," he says politely to Maria. She gives him a smile. He's never seen her smile so comfortably.
"Hi, Devlin," she says shyly. Her eyes are as brilliant a blue as he remembers and now they're sparkling, not with tears, but with happiness. His heart pounds against his ribcages and for a moment he lets himself believe all that happiness is because of him.
"You look nice," he says, remembering his manners.
"You look like you just went flying and landed in the dirt!" She waggles a finger at him. "It's some way to show up to a surprise party."
He'd never realized she had a sense of humor and he finds himself smiling at the discovery.
"Yeah, well, they kinda didn't tell me to dress up. And I didn't land in the dirt…I purposefully aimed to take a tumble."
"Why?"
"To hear father shout: Don't do that! Oh Merlin, please don't tell your mother you did that!"
She giggles.
"Have you met Tom?" For a moment he's taken aback, wondering if this had all been a dream that is about to shatter around him, until he follows her pointing finger and finds the boy from the party at the other end of it.
"Yeah, I did."
"We used to be friends, all three of us."
"I don't remember."
"That's okay, come make friends again."
"Yeah…okay." He found he could do anything, with her happiness flowing around him and enveloping him. Even make friends with a boy whose name sent shivers up his spine.
"And there is Freddie, he's Mr. Weasley's son. Come on, I'll introduce you!"
She drags him over to the two boys, who are trading Chocolate Frog cards.
"Freddie, Tom, this is Devlin."
"Well, duh, Maria. We obviously know who the birthday boy is." Devlin feels his courage melting. He isn't very good with children his own age. He hadn't met many inside of the camp.
"Well then you should know to be nice too!" She reprimands. They look up at her, half startled and half relieved.
"Sometimes I wish you hadn't found your guts again," Freddie says, "but then I just wanna kiss ya for it!" And he does – he throws himself at her and then ends up tickling her. She squeals.
"Stop it, stop it. Freddie!" But he isn't stopping. Devlin's eyes alight amber.
"She said stop!" He growls, pulling them apart and pushing Freddie up against a wall. The boy pales then seems to find his own spine.
"I was tickling her for Merlin's sake. You phycho or something?"
"He's just being protective…"
"You don't need any protection, Maria," Thomas says softly, looking worried. Devlin releases the boy, feeling his face flush. Obviously he's done one of those wolfish things again. "We'd never hurt you."
"Sorry…I just got worried."
"Who assigned you Maria-protection, huh?" Freddie says, straightening his clothing.
"No one," he says softly.
"Then you've got no right."
"Freddie!"
"What, he doesn't know you. He hasn't got a right. Bet he doesn't even remember us."
"He-"except Devlin knows what she's about to say, and he pulls on her arm hard.
"I'll try harder next time not to step in. I know what it's like for people not to stop. I just over reacted, end of story. Okay Maria?" She nods silently, eyeing him.
"Fine. Let's try again."
"Okay."
"I'm Freddie."
"I'm Devlin, nice to meet you, Freddie." He extends a hand politely.
"No, no, not like that. We're at your party, not some grown up thing. You don't have to bow and do all that stuff."
"Oh, okay."
"I'm Freddie."
"I'm Devlin."
"I'm Thomas."
"Hi Thomas."
"I'm Maria," she giggled.
"Hi, Maria, I'm Devlin."
"Do you collect Chocolate frog cards?" Freddie asked.
"Yeah, I do. I have tons of them."
"How many?"
"Well…I've been eating one everyday for three years so…more than a thousand."
"Merlin! That is a ton!" Thomas exclaimed.
"Do you have them all here?" This was Freddie, giving his small pile an appraising look.
"Erm…yeah…"
"Can we see them?"
"Sure…I mean, if you're allowed in my room. Let me check." The boys gave him an odd look – allowed in his room? The boy was odd that was sure. Maria gave a sad little smile as he went off to find his mum.
OoOoOoOo
"Mum?"
"Hey sweetie, are you ready to open the presents?"
"Ahh, not yet, if that's okay. I was wondering about something, though?" She nods for him to continue. "There are two boys asking about my chocolate frog cards and…well they're in my room. Could they ah, come see them?"
"Devlin, you can invite anyone into your room."
"I just wanted to be sure."
OoOoOoOoO
"Neat room…" Freddie says, except his expression says otherwise. "My little brother has these sheets…he's five…"
"What's up with the crayons?" Thomas asks, looking at them atop his desk. He's never moved them.
Maria is looking around with a much more observant expression, calculating something. Devlin wishes he knew what she was thinking.
"It's the same…exactly the same…"
The words seem to penetrate Thomas' head and he nods as if some mystery had been solved.
"Exactly the same as what?" Devlin asks, hesitantly.
"As it was when we used to play up here, of course."
"Well good, I thought you liked the baby sheets still, but it's just cause you haven't changed them. You really ought to change them, mate."
Devlin frowned. He was starting to feel a sense of annoyance at the two boys. What did sheets matter? Why did it matter that there were crayons in his desk?
"Hello, Thomas, Freddie, Maria," his mother is at the door, smiling. Emma is with her, looking elated but a little uncomfortable, her eye's darting to Freddie and Thomas and back to him. She comes over to him quietly. "Emma just wondered where you where."
"I wanted to see them too," she says, pouting a bit.
"You can," he says. He walks over to his backpack, stood up against the side of his desk, and begins laying miscellaneous things out on his desk, searching for the small wooden box that holds the cards.
His mother tells them the cake will be served in a couple minutes and his friends chorused "Yes Mrs. Potter." He takes a moment to look up in bewilderment. Even when he'd been refusing to call her 'mum' he had never thought of her as a Potter. He turns back to his bag.
He lays a pile of books atop the desk, then a couple of small glass globes that shimmer slightly, then a bunch of little rocks, then a large tooth, then finally, the little wooden box. He waves his hands over it and whispers a password and suddenly it expands into a much larger box.
"Whoa," Freddie says, coming over to the box. It is decorated in different woods, each intricately used to silhouette a scene from history.
"That's awesome! Where'd you get that?"
"For my fifth birthday," he says, beginning to open the lid. Freddie's head snaps up.
"You were with him, then," he says, his voice soft and fearful.
"Ahuh," he says, sending a meaningful look at Emma, who is too busy tracing the pictures on the box to notice. Freddie doesn't seem to understand.
"Didn't they like torture you and stuff?"
He keeps his eyes on the box, refusing to answer the boy. He doesn't seem to take a hint, though.
"I heard they used the unforgivable on you!" His tone of voice isn't as fearful now. The fear has given way to awe and excitement. Not cruel excitement, but rather the nervous kind; the awe of the unknown.
"They did a lot of things," he says "none of which I am going to talk about."
"But they gave you the box…" Thomas says softly. He immediately looks abashed. Maria gives him a scathing regard.
"Yeah, he did. Now are we gonna open it?"
"Yeah!"
He takes the lid off and exposes the thousand plus cards.
"Now that's some collection!"
"Thank you," Devlin says, nodding at Thomas.
"You eat too much chocolate, Devlin," Emma says and laughs.
"Never!" He smiles sheepishly back at her.
And for a moment Devlin feels like an ordinary boy. He knows it won't last.
oOoOoOoOo
The cake had been delicious, most of the presents had been fun to open, but these people did not know him as well as Grandfather or the Death Eaters, so many of them he knew would sit around unused.
His mother had gotten him a journal, as beautifully made as his last, and smiled kindly at him when he'd glanced over. Emma had gotten him chocolate frogs. His father hadn't gotten him anything – Devlin tried not to feel disappointed.
Freddie had gotten him a huge box of 'stuff from the joke shop', Thomas a broom cleaning kit, and Maria a stuffed dragon that roared loudly whenever someone came near him that he didn't know. Devlin liked the card the most though, because it was a picture of Maria in a pretty blue dress smiling with her hair all tucked away in it's braid and her waving at the camera.
Freddie and Thomas left still discussing the chocolate frog cards he had given them, Maria left with a hug and a kiss on his cheek, and the adults filtered out slowly. Remus ruffled his hair and Sirius gave him a hug. Hermione kissed the top of his head and whispered "Thank you." He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, though.
And then they were alone again.
"Are you ready for mine now?" His dad asks, and Devlin's eyebrows rise to meet his hair. "You didn't think I'd forgotten to get you a present, did you?"
Devlin chose not to comment.
"Come on, then, it's outside." Frowning, he followed. The backyard looked the same as always, there was the magical play set (magical because the slide was always changing shape and color and rearranging it's placement), the muggle swing and the garden, then his father lifted his wand and murmured a revealing charm. Suddenly there was a miniature Quidditch pitch.
"I said we'd find a way to play more often, didn't I?" He nods numbly, unbelieving. "There are charms around it to hide it from any Muggles and a bubble to stop us from getting too high (per your mother's wishes)." He winks at him and Devlin grins.
"Thanks, Dad," he whispers and hugs the man.
"No problem." And once more, Devlin feels like a normal boy. He wonders if he'll feel it more and more as he gets older. Either way, he knows it's only a moment's reprieve.
OoOooOo
Later that night Devlin finds himself standing in front of his father and mother, who are reading the newspaper together on the sofa.
"I need to talk to you about something." They're eyes turn to him, full of anticipation and worry.
"Sure, we're listening," says his father, trying to reassure him, as always, that they are good parents.
"I've been informed that sheets and crayons matter…" His parents share a confused look. "Freddie and Thomas say my room is a babies room…I want to fix that…if it's okay…" Relief floods their faces. His mother even smiles a bit.
"So you want some new sheets and some quills to keep in your room?"
"Yes, please."
"I think we can manage that," there is a relieved smile plastered on her face.
"Come on, I'll tuck you in and you can tell me the things we need to go shopping for." He nods and together they walk up to his room.
First off, I'm not too thrilled with this chapter. I kinda got writers block smack dab in the middle of it, honestly, so it feels a bit forced to me, but I needed to get it out. I had lots of inspiration for the next several chapters, of course. *rolls eyes* but couldn't hardly force myself to write this one!
I am still looking for a beta reader…
I'm still really wishing you guys would review. I know you must like the story, otherwise I wouldn't get so many favorites and 'subscriptions'. If you hit any buttons down there, make sure one of them is 'review' please. :)
Up next: " "Probably," he says, but his eyes never move. Far away from the worried Devlin, something is wrong. Very wrong. "